Of evil illnesses, boys, free candy, and Valentines Day
by AlyssPotter
Summary: NOBODY, not one SINGLE PERSON can make the confident Ginny Weasley lose her composer or melt like a marshmallow...except, well, for one Harry James Potter, but other than that! GW/HP with a side of RW/HG. R&R!


**A/N**

**Hey guys! This is another story idea I had. Its actually a romantic story about Harry and Ginny. I decided, since most of my stories are action like and have little romance, I should do one that's all about romance! After all, today is Valentines day...and I'm still sick and miserable. Well, I was until I found I've gotten 318 views on chapter 5 of I'm a Rebel, when I only posted it last night! And, wait for it... 917 VIWES TO I'M A REBEL, JUST YEASTARDAY! Man, you guys rock! I'm also disappointed no one's really checked out my story It's Not Over. I'm almost done writing the next chapter. And, um, I was planning on making this a three day special, but, you know, I got super sick and all...and am still super sick and tiered...so, I'm posting starting with today! Tell me what you think!**

**Music:**

**Old school- by Inhabited **

**Disclaimer:  
"So, my dear, do you know why you're here today?" the phycologist asks me, leaning forward on her elbows, a clipboard in hand.**

**I roll my eyes, "Yeah, for some reason, people don't believe I own Harry Potter! I mean, I ****_am_**** the author of those books."**

**"Hmmm, it's worse than I thought," the physiologist mumbled, furiously scribbling on her ****notes. She looked back up at me, "So, honey, when's the last time you spoke to your editor?"**

**I smile at the physiologist, who was finally talking sense. "Oh, Barry and I chat all the time, you see, thinking of writing some more children's novels based off my best seller, of course. In fact," I glared at the Phycologist, who looked confused at my sudden mood swing, "we would have been discussing the details right now if my parents hadn't dragged me out here to talk about some mystery problem. I mean, seriously! Not serious as in Sirius, just the , um, serious serious. Not the person. Anyway, you'd think that, being the parents of a famous writer, they'd be happy and notice my HUGE accomplishment, but for some reason, they're insisting I've read it too many times. Can you believe they think I'm hypnotized? Honestly! I wrote Harry Potter, so I'm garunteed the right to obsses over it. Some...Ok, alot! But who can blame me? It's not easy being a world famous writer with so many demands!"**

**The phycologist shakes her head sadly. "See, dearie, that's the reason you're here. You don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does." she holds up a book.**

**I laugh, "Silly Phycologist, you're reading it wrong." I grab the book from her and glance at the cover. "See, it says-"**

**My eyes widen as I look at the authors name, tears welling up in my eyes," J.K. Rowling?! NOOOOOOO!" I fall to my knees as the world explodes.**

**_'Cough, cough...'_ anyway, I don't own Harry Potter stuff or the above mentioned music.**

**Chapter 1**

**Evil illnesses and Baloney**

I'm officially over holidays. OVER THEM! They just don't like me, gathering together to snicker about my misfortunes, plotting and crackling as I fall to my demise, forever cursing the evil holiday spirits, haunting them until they return me to my proper resting place, with my beloved broomstick, and then, I'll go all zombie-apocolypsie on them, and run at them with my ultra-awesome broomstick, and CHASE THEM AROUND THE YARD, AND I SHALL BECOME THEIR MASTER, AND THEY WILL BOW TO ME, AND..

And, well, it's Valentines day, too. And...I'm still sick and feel absolutely HORRIBLE! For some reason, as mentioned before, holidays seem to hate me. When I was in kindergarden, at a wizard primary school, and everybody was friends with everybody, I got invited to a birthday party that I got to dress up for! All my friends were going, and I remember feeling really sick, and trying to make it through the day unnoticed...only to have the teacher send me to the healer when I nearly feel to sleep on the lunch table. Of course, you can guess how that ended! And, of course, in third grade, I got a cast on a broken arm, on HALLOWEEN! And, of course, Dean Thomas had absolutely no sense and broke up with me last Christmas...and then, yes, then, today of ALL THE BLOODY DAYS TO FALL SICK TO THE EVIL MUGGLE ILLNESSES...I got sick.

So here I lay, moaning miserably on a bed in the hospital wing, groaning and whimpering in pain, cursing the stupid holiday for falling on the day I got sick, meaning no free candy! I live for that candy. And it's free. Did I mention that? And many come with pretty little flowers, a gift to try and impress me, which, obviously, doesn't work, because I am immune to the devilish ways of boys and their charms. Yes, I Ginerva Molly Weasley, am immune to boyish charms. Nobody can make smart, talented, beautiful, hap-URGH!

...Those potions are terrible, let me tell you. Some Valentines gifts Madam Pomfry gives. And I always wondered why she was single...Anyway. Back to it. NOBODY, not one SINGLE PERSON can make the confident Ginny Weasley lose her composer or melt like a marshmallow...except, well, for one Harry James Potter, but other than that!

...I wonder if any of my friends will bother to show up, and moan with me about the unfairness of evil holidays. They can bring me candy, and we'll talk and gossip about the latest relationships...

**5 minutes latter**

You know, I'm sure they'll be here. Any minute! They're just getting ready...

**15 minutes latter**

Hello? Friends, or girls-who-are-supposed-to-be-my-friends? Are you _coming_ any time soon?

I'm BORED! I mean, couldn't Madam Pomfry have given me something just a little bit interesting to do? Like, candy, or cards, or candy, or my quidditch magazine, or a quaffle...or candy.

**30 minutes latter**

I somehow grabbed a green bouncing ball and am currently flinging it at the wall. It keeps coming back. I wonder if it knows about my temper. I don't want to hurt the poor guy. He really was the only one who's been sticking with me over this miserable holiday.

**45 minutes latter**

I found a black marker-thingy and drew a face on the little guy, and even a cute little tiny heart on his chest! Or what I think is his chest.

His name shall be squishy! And Squishy is my friend, really my best friend. Really, what use are my other friends? All they do is chatter about boys and forget how to talk to them. _Squishy_ can actually steal candy from other people's bed-side tables, as I already have finished the candy I accioed from my dorm. Somehow, and don't ask me how, I managed to get a double-sided sticking charm on him. I'd throw him on the candy, then accio him back! It was all great fun, and the two of us had a ball, laughing with each other and eating candy and talking...

**1 hour latter**

Well, I really am going crazy now. I am talking to a piece of plastic. That I drew on. Goes to show that my friends are of some use after all. But, they decided to abandon their helpless friend, fellow girl and chocolate lover.

But wait! What's that over there! Is it a bird? A broomstick? No...it's...Baloney? Go figure. I've officially lost it. See you at the end, my friends, if I make it! This Baloney shall never stop me! I am DETERMINED! NOTHING shall stand in the way between _me_ and my _sanity_!

"Ginerva Molly Weasley?" a voice said.

...And it talks. There goes my brilliant plan. Great.

I jumped and hid under my covers, curling into a ball with Squishy at my side.

"Who wants to know?" I managed to reply, hoping that my nightmare would soon be over and the Baloney-man would disappear.

"We've come for Squishy," the evil-Baloney-man replied, holding his hand out to little Squishy, who lay quietly in my arms.

"NOOOOOO!" I shrieked, "you can NEVER capture him! I know what you're going to do. You're going to steal the candy of little love-struck midgets, aren't you!" my voice rose.

The Baloney dude's mouth dropped open, "How did you find out?! We've kept this a well guarded secret for years and years!"

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, some people were so thick! "It's kind of obvious, you know, with it being Valentines day and all, candy galore and such. But shouldn't you be spending the day with your wife, Cheese?"

He spluttered, "Well, yes, but you see, I couldn't find any roses, and the candy store just doesn't accept pepper as payment anymore." His eyes narrowed, "How do you know about cheese?"

I smiled sympathetically at him. "Dear, everyone knows that Baloney and chess always stick together. I can see your wedding rings, too. I can also tell you right now you're looking in the wrong places. I'd suggest Eirnelda's flowers down in Hogsmead, and you can never go wrong with a chocolate bar or two from Honeydukes!"

The Baloney-guy grabbed my hand it shook it rapidly, thanking me over and over, and apologizing to Squishy. I smiled at him, happy to have played my first match-maker game of the day. Baloney shook my hand one last time before running out the door to find stuff for his wife, Cheese.

Madam Pomfry choose that moment to walk in, carrying a tray of nasty colored, bubbling goo that I hesitate to call a potion.

"Who was that," she asked curiously, as she set the tray down next to my bed, allowing the drifting scent of _revolting_ potions to waft up to me. I wrinkled my nose in distaste.

I carefully picked up a glass of water to postpone consuming the scary and disgusting potion,"Some Baloney-guy, babbling on about chocolate for his wife. I helped him discover the delights of Hogsmead."

Madam Pomfry gaped at me, "You mean little Georgie Walker and his wife Katelin? Oh! Those poor, poor dears." Madam Pomfry shook her head in a detected sort of manner, leaving me, once again, full of questions.

"You know them?"

"KNOW THEM?!" Madam Pomfry suddenly shrieked, "of course I 'know them'! They are the only case I've ever failed," she shook her head sadly. "Evern Mungo's couldn't help them, and they are forever cursed to become their feared food product every Valentines day. They can only be cured of it if a couple, young and in love, has their first kiss by midnight on Valentines day. There was a prophecy, you see, it goes:

_The two who are cursed_

_shall only be cured_

_one when the ones with true love and faith return_

_together, they conquor_

_divided, they fall_

_many things are unknown and others not known at all._

_Appearances are deceiving, and one must not be fooled_

_by the deceivers, and liars,_

_and those with unjust rule,_

_for the ones with love and faith_

_must return_

_to cure the curse_

_of Valentines day._

Madam Pomfry held her hand up to the ceiling after finishing her proclamation, causing me to snot at her over-dramaticness.

"Really. They're putting their faith in a prophecy?"

"WHAT?! How dare you insult the famous Valentines day prophecy! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR MAKER!"

"You mean my parents?"

"Wh-WHAT?! NO! That's not what I meant!"

I smirked at the speechless martin and continued to play with Squishy. He really was quite cuddly.

Pomfry looked at me with narrowed eyes and thin lips, along with her hands on her hips. "Well, Ginerva, dear, it's time for your potion. Drink it _all_ up."

She looked at me expectantly, holding up what looked like a twenty pound beaker of green slime. I gaped at her. And continued gaping. And gaped some more.

"You mean, now?!" I asked, staring wide-eyed at the now crazy healer who held the bottle of slimy, goopy poison in a menacing sort of manner.

"Yes," she advanced on me, "_now_!"

I shrieked and climbed backward, desperately crawling away from the mad-women with potions, clutching Squishy to my chest, who had somehow morphed into a giant, cuddly green teddy bear. Don't ask me _why_ my accidental magic refuses to listen to me. I would really like to get that martin off of me, who's trying to force-feed me potions.

"Stay still, Miss Weasley!" Madam Pomfry growled, trying to hold my struggling form still, holding a bottle of green glob close to my head.

I squeaked and renewed my efforts to get away from the Slytherin slime. "You shall not turn me!" I yelled rather hysterically, feeling an awful lot like Luke Skywalker resisting his father. Except, Madam Pomfry isn't my father. Or mother. Or related to me in any sort of way, to be perfectly clear. Other than that, though...

"You will drink it!" Madam Pomfry screeched, much like a banshee, but she was a whole lot scarier. You know, because she held the Slytherin slime. I'd rather not turn green on a day where the theme colors are pink and red. And, er, Slytherinly. Merlins baggy left pink sock! I just didn't want to drink the nauseating potion.

I glared daggers at the evil lady, "I shan't! You can't make me! I will forever be a Gryffindor!"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're on about Miss Weasley, but you will drink this potion!" the martin hissed angrily, pinning my arms to my bed as I continued to struggle.

I heard a chuckling sound from the entrance and turned my head to the side to tell the person who was taking fun out of my misery, to bugger off, a mean glare on my face with my lips tightly sealed.

Because. I am Ginerva Molly Weasley, fearless sister of six older brothers, who is _not_ a helpless sap and an extremely successful Quidditch player and has had several successful boyfriends. I am strong, independent Ginny, who cannot be rendered speechless by anyone!

But all those thoughts are pretty useless right now, unless they can help me escape the gaze of a laughing, emerald eyed Harry James Potter in a Quidditch uniform.

**A/N **

**So, you guys want to hear the prank ending I thought of?**

**Ok, here it is...**

**I glared daggers at the evil lady, "I shan't! You can't make me! I will forever be a Gryffindor!"**

**Said lady crackled madly, leering and showing off her sharp, pointy white vampire teeth. "But Miss Weasley, you already are."**

**"What?" I looked down at my school robes, which looked normal until I saw the house crest.**

**There sat a big, dirty, green snake with the words Slytherin written across the front.**

**"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I wailed, falling to my knees and disintegrating as Madam Pomfry poured the green Slytherin liquid on me. **

**Eh, it was kind of random... **

**Ginny's tragedies in the long beginning paragraph are actual events that happened in my life, unfortunately. But I'm serious. I think the holiday's hate me...**

**Well, I'm going to get started on chapter two, if anyone was wondering! And, guy's, you think you could give me some song suggestions? I'm nearly out of fresh ideas that fit my stories! **

**Kisses!**

**Alyss ;D**


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